


Last Chance

by aryastcrks



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 15:04:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17900390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryastcrks/pseuds/aryastcrks
Summary: What I would like to happen in GoT season 8 when Jaime arrives at Winterfell.





	Last Chance

Jaime turned back, watching the sun set across the Blackwater, pink and orange reflecting off the ripples of the water, then scanned his sight over the Red Keep. _Goodbye_ , he thought sadly, and yet at the same time proudly, as he observed the sun slowly drifting behind the buildings of the castle and out of sight.

 

 _Forward. I’ve got to move forward._ As he guided his horse towards Winterfell, he prepared for the sharp bite of the cold, white winds of the North. Only one image in his mind kept him warm during the long ride North: a pair of astonishing blue eyes.

 

***

 

Brienne walked beside Lady Sansa across the court of Winterfell as she gave instructions to the soldiers and the women on storing food, caring for the horses, and sewing clothes to prepare for the winter. _Winter is Coming. Those are the words of House Stark,_ Brienne remembered. Never had they been more true than now, as the realm braced for the coldest and most brutal winter anyone had seen since the Long Night.

 

She felt a pang of hurt as she remembered Jaime, with his golden hand to match his golden hair, and how he had chosen to stay with Queen Cersei. She understood the nature of their relationship, and had accepted that Jaime would never leave her, but these facts did not stop the brokenness she felt in her heart.

 

Just then, a Stark soldier came rushing up to Lady Sansa, with her hair a fiery red against the bleak landscape of Winterfell. He was flushed and out of breath.

 

“My lady,” he started. “Someone’s at the gate. It.. it’s the Kingslayer.”

 

Brienne felt her blood freeze in place inside her veins as shock took over her mind and body. _Jaime... Why is he_ here? Quickly, excitement took over for the shock as she felt butterflies in her stomach and warmth in her cheeks. She let a small smile escape her lips. _He... he came back... for me..._ Brienne thought, before internally hitting herself for ever thinking such a ridiculous thing. Jaime surely has an important message for the Starks, that’s all.

 

“Escort Ser Jaime to the Great Hall,” Sansa said gracefully. “And fetch us some bread and ale.”

 

Brienne accompanied her Lady to the Great Hall, her heart fluttering all the while.

 

***

 

Sansa sat at the head of the Great Hall, in the Stark chair, with Brienne beside her. Jaime Lannister strode into the Great Hall accompanied by Stark soldiers, clad in black boiled leather, a glove covering his golden hand and a thick beard covering his jaw. On his face was a look of exhaustion, desperation, and sadness. Brienne had not seen him so down-trodden since Vargo Hoat and the Bloody Mummers cut off his hand and tortured him in the Riverlands, all those lifetimes ago.

 

Jaime’s worry lines seemed to disappear when he looked up and saw Brienne. He knew she would be here in Winterfell, but he had not expected to see her so soon. His journey North was long and back-breaking, with little food and a lot of cold. He had traveled for a little over 3 weeks, riding hard during the day, and trying to keep warm at night. He had lost about 15 pounds during the ride, due to the scarcity of game in the woods. He prayed to whatever gods might be listening as he drifted asleep to the sound of wolves howling each night, wishing and hoping to wake the next morning. He _needed_ to get to Winterfell, to warn the Starks of Cersei’s betrayal, and to see Brienne... before it was too late.

 

“Brienne,” he sighed with a small smile spreading across his lips.

 

Brienne turned a bright pink, her freckles blending into the color of the flush. She smiled back at him, her heart breathing a sigh of relief.

 

“Ser Jaime,” she said, acknowledging his greeting.

 

Jaime limped across the hall, his legs stiff and sore from the ride, towards Lady Sansa and Brienne. He laid down his sword and began to tell them about Cersei’s plan to betray them, and how he was here to pledge his loyalty to the Starks. Sansa calmly nodded her head and said, “thank you for informing me of this, Ser Jaime. I spent years in King’s Landing with Cersei. I knew that she had no intention of keeping her promise to help us.” Jaime nodded and looked at his feet, as if ashamed of his sister’s actions.

 

“I thank you for your service,” Sansa continued. “Pledge your loyalty to House Stark and we will find a room in the castle fit for a knight of the Kingsguard.”

 

Sansa’s warm hospitality would surprise many considering Jaime had once been the Starks’ enemy, considering he slew Jory Cassel and all of Ned Stark’s other men, considering his family orchestrated the Red Wedding and many of the other horrors that befell Sansa’s family. However, Brienne knew of Sansa’s warmth, of her empathy and altruism, and of her kindness. This did not surprise her.

 

Jaime took an oath and was then escorted to a room in the castle.

 

“Go get him,” Sansa said.

 

“Pardon, my lady?” Brienne asked, confusion spreading across her face.

 

“Jaime. Go get him. Tell him how you feel. Winter is upon us and none of us know our fate,” Sansa responded, a knowing smile playing across her lips.

 

“I- I- I don’t know what you’re talking ab-“ Brienne started to stutter and flush, but Sansa raised a hand.

 

Sansa took Brienne’s large hand in her dainty ones, her smile growing wider. “Go,” she said.

 

Brienne nodded her head and headed to Jaime’s quarters.

 

***

 

Jaime was resting on the feather bed of the warm room, staring at the canopy above him. He thought of Cersei and felt a pang of sadness and anger, but shook it away. _I am doing what’s right,_ he said to himself.

 

The sound of a light knock on the door drifted across the room. Jaime stood up and crossed the quarters, only to open the door and see... _her_. Brienne. Brienne with her cropped hair, as light as a sun beam, Brienne with her wide, homely face, Brienne with her freckles, Brienne with Oathkeeper, Brienne with her astonishing eyes. _Brienne._

 

“Ser Jaime,” she said. “May I come in?”

 

Jaime swallowed roughly, his throat feeling suddenly dry, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t find the words to speak, so he just nodded and stepped aside.

 

Once the door was closed, Brienne sat on Jaime’s bed, looking at her feet.

 

When she looked up, Jaime finally found the courage to speak.

 

“Lady Brienne—“ he started, but Brienne interrupted.

 

“No, let me speak,” she said, and in that moment Jaime heard more confidence in her usually timid voice than he had ever heard before. Jaime closed his mouth and smiled gently, his green eyes looking kindly into her blue ones, and sat down on the bed next to her.

 

Brienne kept eye contact and started.

 

“You were my prisoner,” she said, then paused. Jaime nodded patiently.

 

“You saved me from getting gang raped, at the cost of your sword hand. You jumped into a bear pit with only one hand and no weapon to save me yet again. You gifted me Oathkeeper. Nothing I can say or do will ever repay you for that.”

 

Jaime felt a pang of sadness in his heart, worried that Brienne felt she owed him something. “Now Brienne, wait—“

 

“Let me finish,” Brienne said, placing her hand over his left one. Jaime looked down at their hands and felt warmth spreading through his body, starting where her fingers touched his skin. Jaime looked back into Brienne’s eyes and nodded again.

 

“Ever since Renly... I never thought I’d love again. Not like how I loved him. But then I realized... I never really loved him. But I found love somewhere else, despite my best judgment. And a wise man once told me that you can’t choose who you love.”

 

Brienne stared intently into Jaime’s eyes, hoping he would get the message. However, he seemed to be completely clueless, as confusion was written all over his face.

 

Brienne sighed in exasperation. “Jaime, it’s _you!”_ she blurted out.

 

“Wha—“

 

“I’ve come close to death many times and when I have, the person whom I thought of last before I thought I was going to die was you. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Brienne squeezed his hand tighter. She had never been so emotionally vulnerable, even when her father had invited those cruel lords to meet with her to find her a husband. She prayed that Jaime would finally understand.

 

Jaime’s heart fluttered. Part of his mind told him _but Cersei,_ but another, stronger part of his mind told him to listen to what he knew was true, which was this: he sacrificed his life for Brienne on numerous occasions, he gave her his sword, he had dreamed of her over and over, he thought of her when he was supposed to be thinking of his sister, and if someone gave the word, he would die for her. He finally understood what she was saying.

 

Jaime took his left hand out from under Brienne’s and slowly lifted it to her cheek. She felt warm. His heart beat faster, as he was scared of this new and unfamiliar feeling. This wasn’t the type of love that he held for Cersei, an angry, jealous love; no, this was a love that comforted him when he doubted himself, a love that reminded him to be a better man, a love that made him feel... _happy._

 

A smile flickered across Jaime’s face as he looked from her sapphire eyes to her rosy pink lips. He slowly inched closer to her, excitement and adrenaline coursing through his body, until Brienne finally closed the gap between their faces and pressed her lips gently against his. She was warm, and soft, and familiar. She felt like coming home after a long and hard battle and tending to your wounds. She felt like the warmth from every good memory of his childhood. She felt like, well, _Brienne._

 

Jaime deepened the kiss and Brienne responded with enthusiasm, finally relieving the tension she had felt for what seemed like a lifetime. Is this... is this really happening? she questioned. A part of her mind reminded her that she was too ugly to love, but another part reassured her that she knew in her heart that Jaime felt the same way.

 

They kissed each other fervently, Brienne wrapping her hands in Jaime’s shaggy blonde hair, Jaime’s hand moving to her waist, his tongue lightly moving hers. They were desperate for each other, but Brienne felt a nagging sensation in the back of her mind.

 

“Wait—“ she said, pulling apart from him.

 

“What is it?” Jaime asked.

 

“I... I... I’m not ready.”

 

Jaime softly laughed and took her hand in his, resting his forehead against hers.

 

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

 

“I love you,” Brienne said, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

 

“And I you,” Jaime replied.

 

They laid down on the bed together, facing each other, talking about their childhoods, discussing where they would travel if they had no obligations, sharing their hopes and dreams and their fears and failures, and laughing through the night. They fell asleep holding hands, dreaming of a different lifetime, one without white walkers or royal duties, one where they could settle down on Tarth or at Casterly Rock and spend the rest of their lives together, happily and peacefully. They awoke to three blows of a horn, long and somber.

 

“It’s time,” Jaime said. Brienne nodded.

 

And together, they faced the darkness.


End file.
